How to dodge the tidal wave of debris?

 Why is it that some days I can calmly tiptoe through the never ending tidal wave of crumbs, piles of strewn clothes, pen lids, shards or this, that and the other, then like today every blasted misplaced object screams at me in high volume and makes me want to hide in bed with covers over my head? I literally don’t know where to begin. And it feels that unless I control this seeping chaos it will soon prevent anyone from moving without tripping over and I will find myself gagged and bound by mismatching socks and never again free to have a higher thought. 

The final straw is finding one of the many potties that we have cradling an old wee. Does nobody (ie the father) see the need to remove such things?? Oh god before long we will have rampant pestilence ... in fact a plague of rats maybe the cleaning agent I need? Do they eat plastic and odd socks? 

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